


let your hands heal me

by casnovak



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Chronic Pain, Destiel - Freeform, Doctor Castiel, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hunter Dean, Sick Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-17
Updated: 2014-03-15
Packaged: 2018-01-12 18:27:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1195083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/casnovak/pseuds/casnovak
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean Winchester wasn't an advocate for going to the doctor every once in a while. Heck, he's never even set foot in a clinic before. Sure, he's gone to the hospital a few times. A broken rib here, a sprained leg there, it was all customary action for him. But one day, he felt really down in the dumps. He couldn't stand the pain anymore, so he took a deep breath, and stepped right through the clinic doors...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Doctor's Visit

**Author's Note:**

> Slight AU where Cas is a doctor and Dean and Cas don't know each other. Dean is still a hunter, and Cas is still an angel.

"Hi! How may I help you today?" said the beautiful, young clerk at the front desk.

 _She's hot,_  Dean thought. But he wasn't in the mood for flirting, not now. He winced in pain as he lifted his hand towards the top of the desk, struggling to get the words right out of his mouth.

"I-I'm here to see the D-Doctor." he said, sheepishly. The pain he was going through was unbearable, so much so that he couldn't come up with any witty remarks.

"Do you have an appointment scheduled?" she said while swiftly and almost mechanically typing away at the computer keyboard. Not once did she make even the slightest effort to provide her undivided attention to him.

"Yeah. Name's Dean Winchester," he said through gritted teeth.

"Dean Winchester. Hmmm," she said, dragging out the last word. Her face lit up a few moments later as if she just remembered who he was, but that was impossible. He'd never seen her in his life. "Yup, Just in time, too!" she said, immediately looking towards him. She gave him a once over and smiled. "The doctor's waiting for you in room B4!"

"B-where?" he asked, making every little effort to stay focused while his every nerve was fighting against him.

"Just down this hall and make a left!"

She was in such a quirky mood that he actually felt slightly better when speaking with her. The sound of her voice seemed to dull the pain he was feeling.

He opened the door leading to the hallway and took a few small steps. 

 _If only Sammy was here,_ he thought. _He'd make sure I was ok._

Yet he had refused to let him know. He left a message on his phone, saying something about going to the bar.

He kept on walking slowly, almost limping.

B4.

He had found the room.

His heart began to race, making his way towards it and attempting to slowly tilt the handle.

It didn't budge.

"Crap!" he said under his breath.

He waited outside of the door, hoping to see someone passing by who might help him.

Five minutes passed, nothing.

He faced the door again and was about to kick it in despite his physical condition when he heard a gravelly voice behind him.

"Please, allow me." said the voice.

Dean turned around and came face to face with an attractive, blue-eyed man wearing a white doctor's coat. He stood aside, speechless.

"You know, patients who come and visit this clinic are entitled to waiting inside these rooms. You did not have to stand outside and wait for me to make my appearance." The man smiled and effortlessly turned the handle. The door opened.

Dean stared at the door, then, at the doctor. His brain was having trouble processing what he'd just seen.

"But...?"

"Yes?"

"The door. It wasn't locked?"

"Nonsense! No door within this establishment is ever locked!" the doctor said, nonchalantly. He went inside, Dean following closely behind.

The doctor gestured for him to sit on the nearby bed, but Dean knew that he didn't have the strength to lift himself up.

"I-I think I'll just stand here." he said, slightly embarrassed.

"Suit yourself." said the doctor while inspecting his files. "Dean Winchester, am I correct?"

"Yeah."

"Ok, Dean, what's wrong?"

"How'd you know what-?"

"That is the reason why you came here, is it not? Something is hurting and you want it to stop."

"Well, I guess-"

"Good! Then what is hurting you?"

"I-It's my whole body. I-I can't do anything without a sudden pain shooting through my spine."

It only took one look at him for the doctor to know what was burdening him, and a look of sincere grief was placed on his face.

"Uhh, doc? You listening?"

The doctor was searching his eyes for something, anything, that would tell him that Dean's life was worth saving. He caught glimpses of him as a young boy, carrying a baby out of a burning house. Glimpses where he was with another man, taller, much taller than him, and a black car where the two spend a lot of time in. He saw that the two men were not merely people, but guardians, hunting down monsters and protecting the people they could. He had found a reason, a reason to keep him alive.  


The doctor finally came to and looked towards Dean.

"You were going to die."

"Excuse me?" Dean asked, a little shocked at what he'd just heard.

"You have a tumor in your brain, the malignant type of tumor. It has spread throughout your spine, that is why you cannot complete a task without feeling a painful reaction. In less than two weeks, you would have dropped dead where you'd be. Your brother, Sam would have found you on the floor and called 911, but it would have been no use. You would already be dead."

"Wha-how'd ya know about Sam? What do you mean I was supposed to die?" Dean was growing both scared and confused. He couldn't bear the thought of leaving his little brother alone to fend off for himself.

"It does not matter anymore." The doctor raised his hand and put two fingers on Dean's forehead. Maybe it was the pain he was feeling that made him hallucinate the doctor's eyes glowing a bright blue color, or that the room was suddenly engulfed in a blinding white light. It happened so fast that Dean didn't have time to react.

"Wha-" Dean began to say, when a sudden surge of relief completely overtook his body. The unbearable pain that he was feeling a few moments ago had instantaneously faded away and now felt only like an inconvenient memory.

"How-? What-?"

"You know, for someone who always has something to say, you sure are at a loss for words right now," said the doctor.

"Are you my guardian angel?" Dean asked, slightly flustered for having actually said that out loud.

The doctor smiled and was just about to step outside of the door when he heard Dean calling him.

"Hey!"

The doctor turned around.

"I just wanted to say...thanks."

He wasn't sure whether to hug him or shake his hand, but decided against doing either of those. The doctor smiled again.

"It is my job to keep _you_  safe."

That made Dean furrow his eyebrows, but he quickly decided on shaking it off.

He was about to leave again when he heard, "What's your name?"

The doctor stopped.

"Castiel," he said, and closed the door behind him.


	2. Home Sweet Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now that Dean's been healed by the mysterious Doctor Castiel, he feels better than ever and goes straight back to the bunker. While Sam is busy trying to find the next case, Dean gets hungry and tries to find something to eat.

"Sammy! I'm home!" Dean said as he barged in through the bunker doors.

He hadn't felt this great in years! He felt like he could do a hundred, maybe even a thousand, pushups without breaking so much as a single drop of sweat.

"Dean?" Sam asked, slightly confused by his brother's sudden change in behavior. "You seem awfully cheery today." Sam briefly broke his gaze from his laptop's screen to check if Dean was really alright, but once he saw his brother's big o'l smile, he resumed to typing away at the small machine. Typical Sam, always ready to hit the next case. "Did you, you know...?"

"Know what?" Dean asked, confused.

"You know, have a good time? At the bar?" He extended his arms, as if the action would help Dean understand what he was saying.

"Oh, right! Yeah" Dean said, quickly regaining his composure. "You could even say that it involved a stressful release of my-"

"Woah, woah, ok, that's enough, dude," Sam quickly interrupted.

"What?" Dean asked, innocently. "I was talking about my anxieties! Geez, Sammy, what were _you_ thinking?" he said with a sly smile forming across his face.

Sam nodded, though he was a bit annoyed with Dean's usual antics, he was just glad to have his brother back.

Dean ran down the bunker steps and made his way towards the refrigerator. "Got any pie?" he said, shuffling around the empty containers.

"Uhm-"

"What is it?" Dean asked, though he already knew he wasn't going to like his response.

"It's just, well, you haven't been eating lately, and you know I stick to salad, so I didn't really see the need to buy you some pie that would've gone moldy over time."

"You-wait, let me get this straight. You thought I'd be better off without some pie in the fridge? What's wrong with you, man? This is worse than the time you brought me cake instead of pie and called it the same thing!"

"Yeah, but you haven't really wanted to eat some for the last couple of weeks. Heck, now that I think about it, you haven't really eaten anything at all."

It was true.

Ever since Dean had started feeling the pain spreading throughout his body, he never really paid too much attention on eating. It took up too much effort and every chew sent a jolt of pain blazing through him. But now that he was all better, his intentions were to make up for all the lost time with his beloved pies.

"Yeah, well I guess I'll just have to go buy some myself, then."

"Alright," Sam said, not sure whether it was meant as a question or a statement of reassurance.

With that, Dean slammed the refrigerator shut. He didn't remember how it felt to have all of his strength at his disposal.

"My bad." Dean said. He couldn't help but smile.

Sam looked up from the laptop screen. "Must've been one hell of a chick," Sam uttered under his breath.

"What was that?" Dean asked, facing his little brother.

"Nothing. Just, go get your pie already."

Dean let out a small laugh.

"You ain't gotta tell me twice," he said.

As he made his way towards the stairs, he nudged Sam on the head.

"I'll be back in a few."

"Ok. Bring me some pie. Blueberry."

He opened the bunker door and was about to step outside when he turned to Sam and said, "Cherry? Alright, but I can't guarantee that there'll be any left."

He smiled and closed the door, while Sam scoffed and continued to do some research.

Outside the bunker walls, Dean was greeted with a bright and sunny day. Things were definitely starting to look up for him. The engine of the black 67 Chevy Impala spurred to life as Dean turned the ignition key. The roar filled the entire stretch of the empty highway. With no soul in sight, Dean rolled down the windows and rocked out to Kid Rock's "All Summer Long." He didn't care how off-key his voice sounded, he was just happy to be alive, and to be there for his little Sammy.

He looked out the left-side window and spotted a small bakery with a giant pie plastered on the side of the building.

"Hell yeah! Now that's what I'm talkin' about!" He made a sharp left turn and entered the empty parking lot, with the exception of a navy blue bicycle that was chained to a bike rack.

Eager to finally get his hands on some pie, Dean stepped out of the Impala and made his way towards the bakery, almost stumbling on a small patch of concrete that was jutting out of the floor.

As he entered the small building, a jingling bell alerted the clerk and the customer inside to his presence.

"Welcome to Betty's Bakery! I'll be with you in just a moment!" said a small lady with a mole on her cheek. She was wearing a hairnet on and reminded Dean of one of the lunch ladies from one of his many elementary schools.

"That'll be $32.94!" she said, waiting for the man to hand her the money. He reached for his wallet and took out a $50 bill.

"Keep the change, Betty. You know how much I enjoy your pies," the man said.

Dean froze. He knew that voice.

The man turned around, ready to leave, when he saw Dean standing right behind him. Dean caught sight of those pale-blue eyes that he'd seen just a few moments ago, and his breath was literally taken away.

"Why! Hello, Dean!"


	3. Where's the Pie?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When he arrived at the bakery, Dean expected to find some pie, but what he found was something else entirely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Has a small nod towards another excellent work, "Twist and Shout" by gabriel and standbyme.

"It is nice to see you, well, not limping anymore," said Castiel.

Dean gulped nervously. He didn't expect to see the doctor so soon. Actually, he never expected to set foot in that clinic again. Yet there he was, standing right in front of him.

"Oh, uh, hello. Ca-" He let the unfinished word drag out.

"-stiel. It's Castiel. But enough with the formalities, Dean. You can call me Cas."

"Cas? Castiel? What kinda names are those?" Dean said, not hearing what he'd just blurted out until he saw the confused expression on the guy across from him.

_Shit! That was such a stupid question! Damnit! Why am I so friggin' nervous?_

Cas looked at him as if examining the fine features that carefully made up his face.

"Actually, the name Castiel is derived from the-"

"Bible," Dean said, almost too quickly. "He was one of the angels named Cassiel."

He was secretly a Bible buff, but he didn't want anyone, especially Sam, to know that. He remembered all the times that his mom used to say that he had an angel watching over him. All those times, he pretended to be asleep, but he remembered every single one of them. He found comfort in believing that there was some higher power, somewhere, watching over him and his little brother. Granted, his life wasn't exactly chock full of happy family moments and white picket fences, but he and Sam always managed to pull through somehow.

"Yeah..." said Cas. He raised his eyebrow. "I see you have brushed up on your religious knowledge."

"Lucky guess," Dean said. Tiny beads of sweat began to form across his forehead.

"And I also see that we're beginning to finish each others' sentences," Cas said, smiling.

Dean needed to get out of there and quick. He was becoming flustered, his cheeks turning a pale red. It'd only be a matter of time before he'd say something even more stupid that he'd later regret.

"Sorry, I uh-" he briskly walked past Cas and stood by the counter. "I'll have a cherry pie," Dean asked, hoping to stray the conversation between the two.

"Ooh, sorry sweetheart. No can do, we just ran out of cherry pies." She walked towards the inner bakery and came back out, empty-handed. "Actually, we don't have any pie left."

Dean frowned.

"Crap," he said under his breath.

"We do happen to have a couple of cakes, though. Wanna take a look?" the woman offered.

It pained Dean when people compared cake with pie; they're two _very_ different things.

"No thanks. Any idea who might've bought the last one?"

"Yeah."

She stood there, silently observing him.

"Well?" he asked, growing more impatient by the minute.

"Oh, I'm sorry, that nice gentleman over there bought the last one," she said, pointing towards Cas.

_Oh, you've got to be kidding me._

Cas made a small wave at him, but quickly stopped when he caught sight of Dean rolling his eyes. His smile dropped.

"Alright, thanks anyways." He was ready to make his way towards the Impala, when Cas abruptly stopped him by the shoulder.

"Sorry, I couldn't help but overhear that you wanted some pie." Cas said, trying to ignite some small talk.

"Yeah, I did, but it seems you got the last one."

"Do you..." Cas said, not sure whether he should continue what he was about say, "...maybe want to come over to my house and share some of my pie?" he asked, tentatively.

Dean looked at him, surprised. He barely knew the guy and he was already inviting him over.

"I-uh, also kind of need a ride," Cas said while gesturing towards his bike, which had a flat tire.

Dean couldn't help but crack a smile. Something about the way Cas looked while holding a bright, pink box as well as his pleading eyes made Dean feel warm inside.

"I guess I could give you a ride, seeing as how you're gonna gimme some of that pie there. I love me some cherry pie."

He flicked through several keys on his silver keychain until he found the right one.

"Cherry's my favorite, too," said Cas. He picked up his bike, helmet, and shin guards and carefully tossed them into the already opened trunk of the Impala.

"Hehe, I like you already." Dean said. Cas smiled.

"Hey? What is this handle for?"

He was about to pull it, when Dean managed to stop him mere seconds before popping open the hidden compartment underneath.

"No, no, no, no. I don't go poking around your stuff. You don't go poking around mine."

"Hm, fair enough," Cas said. He stepped back from the trunk and into the passenger's seat.

Dean turned the ignition and began to drive off into the distance. Little did they know that the pie they were about to share, the sole reason for both men being together, was left back at the parking lot. Cas had forgotten to bring down the pie from the roof of the Impala, and when Dean began to drive, the pie fell flat on the ground.

Dean turned on the radio, dialing the knob until he found a decent station to tune to.

"Well shake it up baby, now, shake it up baby! Twist and shout, twist and shout! C'mon, c'mon, c'mon, c'mon baby, now! Come on baby! Come on and work it on out! Work it on out!" blared through the Impala's speakers.

He turned up the volume.

"I friggin' love this song!" said Dean, singing along and tapping the steering wheel to the upbeat rhythm of the song. He knew the entire lyrics by heart.

Cas looked at him, slightly confused. "Who's singing?" he asked.

"You're kidding, right!?" Dean said, incredulous.

Cas simply shrugged in response.

"You can't be serious! You're telling me you've never heard of the Beatles before? What? Been living under a rock?"

"Something like that." Cas said. He smiled. "The Beatles." Cas paused thoughtfully. " I can dig it."

Dean looked over to this strange man, whom he barely met, who had just healed him and was now offering him some of his pie, and smiled. Genuinely smiled. He's never been a people person, but he felt like he and Cas were developing some sort of special connection, one that he's never felt with anyone else before.

Maybe it was the need for pie talking, or maybe it was the fact that he had just been saved, but one thing was certain, this wasn't the last time he was going to see this strange man.

Cas looked at him and genuinely smiled back.


End file.
